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DICKENS 

ENTERTAINHEKT 

_byJAP&rker 

HEW YORK 
rtRROLD ROORBACK, 

PUBLISHER (i 



AN 



EVENING WITH PICKWICK 

A 

mterarg anti Plustcal ©icfecns Entertainment 



COMPRISING 



READINGS, IMPERSONATIONS, TABLEAUX, PANTOMIMES 
AND MUSIC 



ADAPTED FROM " THE PICKWICK PAP2RS" 
FOR PUBLIC EXHIBITIONS, PARLOR ENTERTAINMENTS, ETC. 



JENNY MARSH PARKER 



■So, long life to the Pickwicks, says /." — Sam Weller 




(i ^ YOFCO;J 
<** cOP YR 'GHT % 

MAP 16 11 



NEW YORK 

HAROLD ROORBACK, Publisher 

9 Murray Street 



PUBLISHER'S NOTE. 



The musical parts of this entertainment are, by the courtesy 
of compiler and publishers, selected from Mrs. Rossiter John- 
son's "Our Familiar Songs," published by Messrs. Henry Holt 
and Company, New York. 

Acquaintance with the characters in "David Copperfield" is 
so general, that little, if any, aid will be needed in preparing the 
costumes, beyond the author's descriptions and suggestions. 
There are, however, several illustrated editions of the novel, 
any of which, as well as " The Dickens Dictionary," may fur- 
nish useful hints. 

The advantage of novelty, united with simplicity in arrange- 
ment and an unvarying success wherever produced, well adapt 
this "Evening" to either public representation or drawing-room 
pastime. The entertainment may be rendered entire, as writ- 
ten, or selections can be made from it to complete a miscella- 
neous programme. 



by Harold Roorbach. 



RAND AVERY COMPANY, 

ELECTROTYPERS AND PRINTERS, 

BOSTON. 







AN EVENING WITH THE 
PICKWICK CLUB 



FOR a merry evening, readily prepared — an entertain- 
ment in which the young and the old will find genuine 
pleasure, and all classes of society as well — " The 
PickwickClub ,: offers unusual attractions. The imper- 
sonations are easy, the stage accessories simple, and the 
pantomimes within the scope of inexperienced amateurs. 
There are few summer resorts, where the laudable desire 
to "get up something in the way of theatricals" will 
not discover a veritable Pickwick and Sam Weller among 
the guests. Having secured these two characters, Tony 
Weller and Stiggins, and the gushing widow Bardell 
are soon brought to light. 

The following is a Pickwick programme which met 
with exceptional success when presented by a company 
of amateurs in Rochester, N. Y., one winter's evening, 
not many years ago. 

The printed programme, — or a written one for that 
matter, if economy is in order, should be as follows : 

AN EVENING WITH PICKWICK. 
Impersonations, Readings and Pantomime. 

I. 

Instrumental Music. 

(3) 



4 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 

II. 

Introductory Remarks by the Reader. 

III. 

Impersonations. 

ist. The Club. 2d. The Wardles— old Mrs. Wardle, 
Mr. Wardle, the Spinster Aunt, the two Young Ladies 
and the Fat Boy. jd. Alfred Jingle, ph. Mrs. Leo 
Hunter, jt/i. Lord Mutanhed. 6th. Count Smorltork. 
yth. Arabella Allen. 8th. Ben Allen, pth. Bob Sawyer. 
ioth. Mrs. Bardell. /////. Mrs. Cluppins. 12th. Master 
Bardell. ijth. Stiggins. iph. Mrs. Weller. ijth. Tony 
Weller. 

IV. 

Readings and Pantomime. 

1st Scene. Tupman and the Spinster Aunt. Tup- 
man, Miss Wardle, the Fat Boy. 2d Scene. The Dis- 
closures of the Fat Boy. Old Airs. Wardle, the Fat Boy, 
Jingle. 3d Scene. Alfred Jingle and the Spinster Aunt. 
4th Scene. A Dilemma with Pickwick in it. Pickwick, 
Mrs. Bardell, Master Bardell, The Club. 5th Scene. 
Dilemma Number Two. Pickzvick, The Lady Traveller. 
6th Scene. Sam Weller visits his Mother-in-Law. Sam, 
Stiggins, Mrs. Weller, Tony Weller. 

A cast of 24 persons, not including the Reader and the 
Stage Manager. 

Now it must be assumed for brevity's sake that the 
persons undertaking the impersonations have a fair ac- 
quaintance with the story to be represented. The best 
beginning for the evening is as thorough a review as 
possible of the book, at least of the characters to be 
assumed. The Dickens Dictionary is valuable help in 
such case. Be sure that the Reader chosen is in sympa- 
thy with the author, and well acquainted with his genius, 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 5 

a lover of Dickens, in short, not his captious critic — a 
merry reader, not only encouraging the laughter of his 
hearers but accommodating the reading to such pleasant 
interruptions. 

A good Reader, a corps of good actors, and two or 
three rehearsals, with a prompt stage manager, will 
bring the Pickwick Club upon the stage, or the parlor 
carpet, in a most acceptable manner. 

THE CLUB. 

These four individuals must be chosen with care, and 
whatever blunder is made, let it not be in the selection of 
a, Pickwick — the eloquent Pickwick, the unmoved Pick- 
wick, the philosophical, childlike Pickwick, whose tights 
and gaiters, bald head and circular spectacles, and plump 
avoirdupois are so well known to all of us. 

Tracy Tupman, " the too susceptible Tupman," makes 
another demand upon the heavy men; for "time and 
feeding," it must not be forgotten, " had expanded that 
ever romantic form — the black silk waistcoat had become 
more and more developed — inch by inch the gold watch 
chain had disappeared from Tupman's vision, and grad- 
ually had the capacious chin encroached upon the borders 
of the white cravat. 1 ' 

The poetic Snodgrass in "a mysterious blue coat with 
a canine skin collar," and the sporting Winkle in a "new 
green shooting coat, plaid neckerchief and closely fitted 
drabs," can be found without difficulty. 

As the first pantomime to follow the Impersonations is 
the Scene in the Arbor, the stage can be arranged for the 
Impersonations with potted plants and evergreens. A 
very pretty arbor can be devised with a screen and 
clothes-bars. A rustic seat, a bird cage and a watering 
pot in the background are in harmony with what is to 
follow, and make a very pretty background for the Im- 
personations. 

The curtain rises upon the Club, who are heralded by 
the Reader. Pickwick stands with one hand " gracefully 



O AN" EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK. CLUB. 

concealed behind his coat-tails," while the other is wav- 
ing in air in response to the greeting of the audience. 
Winkle has his gun, and possibly a hunting dog. Tup- 
man twirls a rosebud. Snodgrass looks the poet. They 
all break out and sing, or singing is done for them 
behind the scenes while they act in pantomime, 
" We won't go home till morning " — as they are re- 
ported to have done on another occasion. 

Before the song is ended, Winkle is aiming his gun 
straight into the audience. 

" I never saw such a gun in my life," he says. " It 
goes off of its own accord. Tell me where to fire.'' 
Pickwick withdraws while Snodgrass muses aloud : 

" It is a noble and a brilliant sight to see the gallant 
defenders of their country drawn up in battle array before 
its peaceful citizens." Tupman has thrown his arm over 
Snodgrass. " There she is ! " he ejaculates, pointing into 
the crowd, " Another dart has pierced my heart." While 
this is going on, Pickwick has dropped into a wheelbar- 
row concealed by the stage curtain, and is wheeled before 
the footlights and left the central figure of the tableau, 
upon which the curtain falls — each Pickwickian ejaculat- 
ing " Cold Punch ! " in his drollest fashion. 

The club is followed by The Wardles of Dingle)' Dell, 
their costuming giving rare opportunity for a display of 
old-time finery. An impressive procession they make, 
six in all, headed by the stout, ruddy-faced English gen- 
tleman, his venerable old mother upon his arm. Her ear 
trumpet is of ancient pattern, but Miss Rachel out-does 
it in years and furbelows. Miss Emily and Miss Isabella 
in scarfs and feathers, simper behind their fans to their 
spinster aunt's unfeigned disgust. The fat boy, who 
brings up in the rear with lagging step — and a very lean 
boy can be a success in this part with a man's linen suit 
stuffed out with excelsior, decorated with enormous but- 
tons, and a high hat — falls at once into a drowse — and 
snores, although he began singing with the rest to the 
tune of" Old Granite State." 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. "J 

Here we are the famous Wardles [repeat). 

Manor farm at Dingley Dell. 

This is old Mrs. Wardle. 

This is merry Mr. Wardle. 

This is spinster Rachel Wardle. 

And the pretty girls as well — 

" D that boy, he's gone to sleep again," ejaculates 

Mr. Wardle, waking up the fat boy before they leave the 
stage, for Alfred Jingle breaks into their song. He is 
heard talking in jerky sentences before he appears. Tall 
and thin. His shabby coat — a green one if you would 
be exact — buttoned closely up to the chin, the sleeves 
hardly reaching the wrists. The tighter the coat the bet- 
ter, an old stock without the vestige of a shirt collar, 
scanty black trousers, strapped down on slovenly shoes, 
and more slovenly stockings, long black hair, an old 
pinched-up hat, and an air of jaunty impudence and per- 
fect self-possession, that's Alfred Jingle, who is jerking 
out the following, the Wardles withdrawing in dismay : 

" English girls not so fine as Spanish — noble creatures 
— jet hair — black eyes — lovely forms — sweet creatures — 
beautiful — only daughter — Donna Christina — splendid 
creature — loved me to distraction — jealous father — high- 
souled daughter — handsome Englishman — Donna Chris- 
tina in despair — prussic acid — stomach pump in my 
portmanteau — operation performed — old Bolaro in exta- 
sies — consent to our union — join hands and floods of 
tears — romantic story — very." 

Alfred Jingle affords a capital opportunity for giving 
the entertainment a local flavor, as he will be at liberty 
to introduce in his flighty circuit of the stage an entirely 
original discourse, and one more interesting to his hearers 
than the text of Dickens. He disappears none too soon 
to give way for the stately approach of Mrs. Leo Hunter, 
in the character of Minerva. She is repeating, as in exta- 
tic soliloquy : 



" Can I view thee panting, lying 
On thy stomach without sighin 



8 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 

Can I unmoved see thee dying 

On a log, 

Expiring frog ? 
Say, have fiends in shape of boys, 
With wild halloo, and brutal noise, 
Hunted thee from marshy joys, 

With a dog, 

Expiring frog? 

The helmet is easily managed by a skilful use of 
pasteboard. While she is reciting, her charmed curious 
listeners steal up behind her — Lord Mutanhed and Count 
Smorltork. The latter has his note book in hand, is ob- 
serving everything and writing it down. It is a capital 
opportunity to represent the English tourist and the popu- 
lar " dude." As Mrs. Leo Hunter sweeps away, the 
Count is heard soliloquizing as he writes : " Mrs. Hunt 
— great poet — friend of Peek Weeks — Fog — Perspiring 
Fog — ver good ver good indeed." followed by Lord 
Mutanhed's exclamation: ''Gwacious heavens! I 
dwove over heah from Boztun in the pwettiest, gwacefullest 
bicycle, the neatest thing that ever wan upon wheels. 
Confound me, if the people did not wun out and awestmy 
progress" — etc., if local allusions suggest themselves. 
They lounge away, Count Mutanhed making notes of 
something special in the room — some prominent indi- 
vidual — while Arabella Allen and Ben Allen are coming 
upon the scene, followed by Bob Sawyer, swaggering 
along in green spectacles and looking "very like a dissi- 
pated Robinson Crusoe." " He wore a pair of plaid 
trousers, blue coat and a large, rough double-breasted 
waistcoat, and carried a thick stick with a big top. 
Mr. Ben Allen " was a coarse, stout, thick-set young 
man, with black hair cut rather short, and a white face 
cut rather long." Spectacles, white neckerchief, surtout 
buttoned up to the chin, coat short in the sleeves, no 
wrist bands visible, nor linen collar. '< Rather a mil- 
dewey appearance." Arabella, a charming English girl, 
which is all sufficient for her description. She looks co- 
quettishly at Bob from behind her fan, and Ben remarks : 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 9 

" I designed 'em for each other. They were made for 
each other. Only five years difference between 'em, and 
both their birthdays in August." 

" She has only one fault," says Bob. " She don't like 
me." Thereupon the young lady sings : 

i lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane. 

I lo'ed na a laddie but ane, 

He lo'es na a lassie but me ; 
He's willin' to make me his ain, 

And his ain I am willin' to be. 
He coft me a roke-lay o' blue, 

And a pair o' mittens o' green ; 
He vow'd that he'd ever be true, 

And I plighted my troth yester e'en. 

Let ithers brag well o' their geer, 

Their land and their lordly degree ; 
I care na for aught but my dear, 

For he's ilka thing lordly to me. 
His words mair than sugar are sweet , 

His sense drives ilka fear far avva' ; 
I listen, poor fool, and I greet, 

Yet how sweet are the tears as they fa' ! 

The last strains of the singing are interrupted by a 
loud voice calling for "Sawyer late Nockemorf," and 
Bob greets his friend, Jack Hopkins — "black velvet 
waistcoat with thunder and lightning buttons," blue 
striped shirt with "white, false collar." He is full of the 
accident in the casualty ward which is easily memorized, 
particularly if abbreviated, although it seems a pity to do 
that — or to avoid the memorizing, Jack can read the ac- 
count to Bob from the newspaper: 

" Child's eldest sister bought a necklace, — common necklace, 
made of large black wooden beads. Child being fond of toys, 
cribbed the necklace, hid it, played with it, cut the string, and 
swallowed a bead. Child thought it capital fun, went back next 
day, and swallowed another bead. 

Next day, child swallowed two beads; the day after that, he 
treated himself to three, and so on, till in a week's time he had got 
through the necklace — five-and-twenty beads in all. The sister, 



10 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 

who was an industrious girl, and seldom treated herself to a bit of 
finery, cried her eyes out, at the loss of the necklace; looked nigh 
and low for it; but, I needn't say, didn't find it. A few days 
afterwards, the family were at dinner — baked shoulder of mutton, 
and potatoes under it — the child, who wasn't hungry, was play- 
ing about the room, when suddenly there was heard a devil of a 
noise, like a small hail storm. 'Don't do that, my boy,' said the 
father. 'I ain't a doin' nothing,' said the child. 'Well, don't do 
it again,' said the father. There was a short silence, and then the 
noise began again, worse than ever. ' If you don't mind what I 
say, my boy,' said the father, 'you'll find yourself in bed, in 
something less than a pig's whisper.' He gave the child a shake 
to make him obedient, and such a rattling ensued as nobody ever 
heard before. ' Why, damme, it's in the child ! ' said the father; 
'he's got the croup in the wrong place! ' ' No, I haven't, father,' 
said the child, beginning to cry, 'it's the necklace; I swallowed 
it, father.' — The father caught the child up, and ran with him to 
the hospital: the beads in the boy's stomach rattling all the way 
with the jolting; and the people looking up in the air and down in 
cellars, to see where the unusual sound came from. He's in the 
hospital now, and he makes such a devil of a noise when he walks 
about, that they're obliged to muffle him in a watchman's coat, for 
fear he should wake the patients' " 

A shrieking call for "Mr. Sawyer! Mr. Sawyer ! " is 
heard before Bob is out of sight, the sound quickening his 
footsteps, for Mary Ann Raddle is on the warpath, broom 
in hand and wrath in her eye, dressed as a hardworking 
woman, whose lodgers don't pay, might be expected to 
dress, and whose voice is sharpened by screaming up 
staircases. " Ain't it enough to be swindled out of one's 
rent, and money lent out of pocket besides, and abused 
and insulted by your friends that dares to call themselves 
men : without having the house turned out of windows, 
and noise enough made to bring the fire-engines here at 
two o'clock in the morning?- — Mr. Sawyer! Mr. Sawyer! " 
her voice softening somewhat in soliloquizing : " Every- 
body knows that they may safely insult me in my own 
house while my husband sits sleeping down-stairs, and 
taking no more notice than if I was a dog in the streets. 
He ought to be ashamed of himself (here Mrs. Raddle 
sobs) to allow his wife to be treated in this way by a 
parcel of young cutters and carvers of live people's bodies, 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. I I 

that disgraces the lodgings (another sob), and leaving her 
exposed to all manner of abuse ; a base, faint-hearted, 
timorous wretch, that's afraid to come up-stairs and face 
the ruffianly creatures — that's afraid — that's afraid — that's 
afraid to come!" and Mary Ann Raddle disappears — 
Mrs. Bardell and her bosom friend, Mrs. Cluppins, and 
Master Tommy Bardell following in her wake. Mrs. 
Bardell and Mrs. Cluppins in their wide cap borders, big 
bonnets and short-waisted frocks are more amusing than 
artistic, — decidedly fussy dames that they are, and Master 
Tommy is by no means tidy and docile, and his loving 
mother alternately thumps and caresses him. "Don't 
worrit your mother, Tommy," pleads the bosom friend. 
"She's enough to worrit her without you." 

"It's a terrible thing to be dragged before the public 
in this way," sighs Mrs. Bardell, mopping her eyes. 
" Whatever 'as 'appened I always have said and always 
will say, how's'evcr, if there's any law for us women, mis- 
'rable creeturs as they'd make us, that with the evidence 
we shall call we must succeed." 

" If you could sing a bit of a song now 'twould comfort 
ye," says Mrs. Cluppins, and they sing : 

THERE'S NAE ROOM FOR TWA. 

It was in simmer time o' year, 

An' simmer leaves were sheen ; 
When I and Kitty walked abraid, 

An' Jamie walked atween. 
We reached the brig o'er yon wee linn, 

Our bonnie brig so sma'; 
"Jenny," said Jem, "maun walk behin', 

There's nae room for twa." 
" There's nae room for twa," said he, 

" There's nae room for twa." 
O, Jamie's words went to my heart, 

"There's nae room for twa." 

A weel a day my heart leaped high, 

When walkin' by his side ; 
Sic thoughts, alas! are idle now. 



12 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 

For Kitty is his bride. 
He could na' , an' he wad hae baith, 

For that's forbid by law ; 
In wedded life an' wedded love, 

There's nae room for twa. 

Dear Kitty ! on thy bonnie brow, 

The simmer sun shall shine ; 
While wintry clouds and winter's gloom 

Are gathering dark o'er mine. 
I'll gie to God my lingerin' hours, 

An' Jamie drive awa', 
For in this weary, wasted heart 

There's nae room for twa. 

The creepin' years hae slowly pass'd, 

An' I hae struggled Strang, 
Wi' a broken hope, an' a broken heart, 

But it is nae now or lang; 
My thread o' life is a' but span, 

An' I maun gang awa', 
An' moulder in the clay cauld ground, 

Where's nae room for twa. 

" Stiggins, the Slicplicrd^ hardly needs the Reader's 
introduction. His red nose, rusty umbrella and stag- 
gering gait do not succeed in depriving him entirely of 
a rather clerical appearance. Dickens' description of 
Stiggins is as follows : 

"A prim-faced, red-nosed man, a semi- rattlesnake 
sort of eye, short trousers, black cotton stockings, very 
rusty, white neckerchief, its long ends straggling over his 
closely-buttoned coat, a faded umbrella." 

"All is vanity," he begins, as if preaching the funeral 
sermon of his audience. 

" And it's my opinion that this meeting is drunk." 
Then he sings to the air from " Pinafore ; " 

" I am the Chaplain of the Pickwick Club, 
And a right good chaplain, too ; 
I'm very good, and be it understood, 
I preach to a chosen few. [Repeat.) 
I've consented to appear, 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 1 3 

On the platform here 

And sing a select dit-tee, 
For I'd have you all to know 
I'm the parson of the " show," 

And I never, never harmed a flea. 
Never ! O, never ! 
No, never ! Well, hardly ever ! 
Hardly ever harmed a flea! 
So pass the plate and fill the mug 
For the temp'rance Chaplain of the Pickwick Club. 
Then pass the plate and fill the mug, 
For the Chaplain of the Pickwick Club. 

Naturally, the Shepherd is followed by Mrs. Weller, a 
rather stout lady of aggressive appearance and demeanor, 
with a suggestive redness of nose. She snaps out : " I 
have no time to waste. I'm on my way to the monthly 
meetin' of the Brick Lane Branch of the United Grand 
Junction Ebenezer Temperance Association," and she 
hurries on, and the curtain drops, and instrumental music 
is given, not too much of it, just enough to admit of 
Sam Weller appearing in the next scene as after the 
death of his mother-in-law. 

Sam Weller as Boots, and Sam Weller as Mr. Pick- 
wick's confidential valet are two different personages. 
" Boots " requires " coarse, striped waistcoat, with black 
calico sleeves and blue glass buttons," if one is to be exact, 
drab breeches and leggings. A bright red handkerchief 
loosely tied about the neck and an old white hat upon 
one side of the head. If " Boots " is wanted he can ap- 
pear wheeling in Pickwick in the first scene. But it is 
Sam the valet who is most needed on this occasion, and 
he appears when the curtain again rises, Sam, the light- 
hearted master of everybody he deals with, dressed out 
in his smart livery — a gray coat with the P, C. buttons, 
a black hat with a cockade to it, striped waistcoat, light 
breeches and gaiters ; a suit, in fact, reminding one of 
Sam's soliloquy when first donning it : "I wonder 
wether I'm meant to be a footman, or a groom, or a 
game keeper, or a seedsman. I looks like a sort of compo 
of eny one on 'em." 



14 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 

" Long life to the Pickvicks, says I," is Sam's greeting 
to the audience, when the curtain rises. " Hows'ever, I'se 
circumwented by a wery incomprehensible letter from my 
respected parient ;" and sighing, he draws the letter from 
his pocket and reads : 

" Markis Gran 

By dor ken 

Wensdy. 
" My dear Sammle, — 

" I am wery sorry to have the plcssure of bein a Bear of ill news 
your Mother in law cort cold consekens of imprudently settin too 
long on the damp grass in the rain a hearin of a shepherd who 
warnt able to leave off till late at night owen to his havin vound 
hisself up vith brandy-and-vater and not being able to stop hisself 
till he got a little sober which took a many hours to do the doctor 
says that if she'd svallo'd varm brandy-and-vater artervards in- 
stead of afore she mightn't have been no vus her veels wos 
immedetely greased and every think done to set her a-goin as 
could be inwented your farther had hopes as she vould have 
vorked round as usual but just as she wos a turnen the corner my 
boy she took the wrong road and vent down hill vith a welocity 
you never see and notvithstandin that the drag wos put on di- 
rectly by the medikel man it wornt of no use at all for she paid the 
last pike at twenty minutes afore six o'clock yesterday evenin 
havin done the jouney wery much under the reglar time vich 
p'raps was partly owen to her haven taken in wery little luggage 
by the vay your father says that if you vill come and see me 
Sammy he vill take it as a wery great favor for 1 am wery lonely 
Samivel n b he vill have it spelt that vay vich I say an't right and 
as there is sich a many things to settle he is sure your guvner 
wont object of course he vill not Sammy for I knows him better 
so he sends his dooty in vich I join and am Samivel infernally 
yours " Tony Veller." 

The curtain may fall here, leaving Sam making grim- 
aces revealing his true state of mind, but if Sam will 
sing, have him do so by all means, and it is only neces- 
sary for some one to call out, "A song! a song ! '' when 
he will bow and say, " Raly, gentlemen, I'm not wery 
much in the habit o' singing' without the instrument ; 
'but anythin' for a quiet life,' as the man said wen he took 
the sitivation at the light-house." And he sings to a 
tune of his own choosing, possibly no tune at all : 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 1 5 



Bold Turpin vunce, on Hounslow Heath 
His bold mare Bess bestrode— er ; 
Ven there he see'd the Bishop's coach 
A-coming along the road— er. 

So he gallops close to the 'orse's legs, 
And he claps his head vithin ; 
And the Bishop says, " Sure as eggs is eggs, 
This here's the bold Turpin ! " 



And the Bishop says, " Sure as eggs is eggs, 
This here's the bold Turpin! " 

n. 

Says Turpin, " You shall eat your words, 
With a sarce of leaden bul — let ; " 
So he puts a pistol to his mouth, 
And fires it down his gul — let. 

The coachman, he not likin' the job, 
Set off at a full gal — lop, 
But Dick put a couple of balls in his nob, 
And penvailed on him to stop. 

chorus {sarcastically). 

But Dick put a couple of balls in his nob, 
, And perwailed on him to stop. 

The curtain falls, to rise upon Tony Weller with the 
badge of mourning upon his coachman's hat — " a hat 
band measuring about a yard and a half in length." A 
plethoric, mottled-faced, great-coated, many waist-coated, 
.old stage-driver. 

He is lost in thought and talking to himself. 

" If I wos to stop here alone vun veek — only vun veek — that 
'ere 'ooman 'ud marry me by force and wiolence afore it was over; 
it's a horrid sitiwation. I'm actiwally drove out o' house and 
home by it. The breath was scarcely out o' her body, ven vun 



1 6 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 

old 'ooman sends me a pot o' jam, and another a pot o' jelly, and 
another brews a blessed large jug o' camomile-tea, vich she brings 
in vith her own hands. They wos all vidders, all on 'em, 'cept 
the camomile-tea vim, as wos a single young lady o' fifty-three. 

" In short, I feel that I ain't safe anyveres but on the box. 
Since losing that 'ere second wentur of mine, says 1 to my Sammy 
says I, be werry careful of vidders all your life, 'specially if 
they've kept a public house, Sammy." 

And he refills his pipe from a tin box, unmindful of 
everything around him. 

This finishes the Impersonations which make a pleas, 
ant little entertainment without the Readings and the 
Pantomime. The Impersonations introduce the charac- 
ters, which find little added to their labors and much to 
the delight of their audience in the Pantomimes and Read- 
ings. Before the second part begins the Reader, who 
may be concealed by the curtain or stand before his 
audience as he chooses — I have seen both ways tried 
with happy success — may give a brief resume of the story 
up to the scene about to be presented; 

TUPMAN AND THE SPINSTER AUNT IN THE BOWER. 

Or he may begin at once to read : 

It was evening at Dingly Dell. Isabella and Emily had strolled 
out with Mr. Trundle ; the deaf old lady had fallen asleep in her 
chair ; the snoring of the fat boy penetrated in a low and monot- 
onous sound from the distant kitchen ; the buxom servants were 
lounging at the side door, and there sat the interesting pair, Tup- 
man and Miss Wardle, uncared for by all, caring for none, and 
dreaming only of themselves : there they sat, in short, like a pair 
of carefully folded kid gloves — bound up in each other. 

"I have forgotten my flowers," said the spinster aunt. 

" Water them now, "said Mr. Tupman in accents of persuasion. 

"You will take cold in the evening air," urged the spinster 
aunt, affectionately. 

" No, no," said Mr. Tupman, rising ; '-it will do me good. Let 
me accompany you." 

The lady paused to adjust the sling in which the left arm of 
the youth was placed, and taking his right arm, led him to the 
garden. 

There was a bower at the further end, with honeysuckle, jessa- 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 1 7 

mine, and creeping plants — one of those sweet retreats which hu- 
mane men erect for the accommodation of spiders. 

Curtain rises upon Tupman and Miss Wardle in the 
bower, the water pot beside her. The Reader pauses 
and Miss Wardle sings — or some one sings behind the 
curtain, she appearing to sing. 

FOR THE SAKE O* SOMEBODY. 

My heart is sair, I daur na tell, 
My heart is sair for somebody ; 
I could wake a winter night, 
For the sake o' somebody. 

Oh lion, for somebody ! 

Oh hey, for somebody ! 
I could range the world around, 
For the sake o' somebody. 

Ye powers that smile on virtuous love, 
O! sweetly smile on somebody ; 
Frae ilka danger keep him free, 
And send me safe my somebody. 

Oh hon, for somebody ! 

Oh hey, for somebody ! 
I wad do — what wad I not, 
For the sake o' somebody. 

The song over, the Reader resumes and the Panto- 
mime goes on. 

The spinster aunt took up a large watering-pot which lay in one 
corner, and was about to leave the arbour. Mr. Tupman detained 
her, and drew her to a seat beside him. 

" Miss Wardle ! " 

The spinster aunt trembled, till some pebbles which had acci- 
dentally found their way into the large watering-pot shook like an 
infant's rattle. 

" Miss Wardle, you are an angel." 

"All women are angels, they say," murmured the lady,, play- 
fully. 

"Then what can you be; or to what, without presumption, can 
I compare you? " replied Mr. Tupman. "Where was the woman 
ever seen who resembled you ? Where else could I hope to find 
so rare a combination of excellence and beauty ? Where else 



1 8 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 

could I seek to Oh!" Here Mr. Tupman paused, and 

pressed the hand which clasped the handle of the happy watering- 
pot. 

The lady turned aside her head. "Men are such deceivers," 
she softly whispered. 

"They are, they are," ejaculated Mr. Tupman; "but not all 
men. There lives at least one being who can never change — one 
being who would be content to devote his whole existence to your 
happiness — who lives but in your eyes — who breathes but in your 
smiles — who bears the heavy burden of life itself, only for you." 

" Could such an individual be found " said the lady. 

" But he can be found. He is found. He is here, Miss War- 
die." (Mr. Tupman sinks upon his knees at her feet.) 

"Mr. Tupman, rise," said Rachael. 

" Never ! " was the valorous reply. " Oh, Rachael ! " (he seizes 
her passive hand, and the watering-pot falls to the ground as he 
presses it to his lips — ) " Oh, Rachael! say you love me." 

" Mr. Tupman," (the spinster aunt averts her head) " I can 
hardly speak the words; but— but you are not wholly indifferent 

to me. But " Here Tupman jumps up, throws his arm around 

her, kisses her several times, never seeing the fat boy, who has 
stolen up and is watching them with amazement — perfectly mo- 
tionless. 

" Mr. Tupman, we are observed ! — we are discovered ! " Tup- 
man gazes at the fat boy, and the fat boy stares at him. 

" What do you want here, sir?" 

" Supper's ready, sir," was the prompt reply. 

" Have you just come here, sir? " (with a piercing look.) 

"Just," replied the fat boy. 

" He knows nothing of what has happened," he whispered. 

*' Nothing," said the spinster aunt. 

A suppressed chuckle from the fat boy, who disappears. 

" He must have been fast asleep," whispered Mr. Tupman. 

" I have not the least doubt of it," replied the spinster aunt. 

They both laughed heartily. 

The curtain falls. The Reader goes on. 

Mr. Tupman was wrong. The fat boy, for once, had not been 
fast asleep. He was awake — wide awake— to what had been go- 
ing forward. 



THE DISCLOSURES OF THE FAT BOY. 

It was the old lady's habit on the fine summer mornings to re- 
pair to the arbour in which Mr. Tupman had already signalized 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 19 

himself, in form and manner following : first, the fat boy fetched, 
from a peg behind the old lady's bed room door, a close bonnet, 
a warm shawl, and a thick stick with a capacious handle ; and 
the old lady having put on the bonnet and shawl at her leisure, 
would lean one hand on the stick and the other on the fat boy's 
shoulder, and walk leisurely to the arbour, where the fat boy 
would leave her to enjoy the fresh air for the space of half an 
hour ; at the expiration of which time he would return and recon- 
duct her to the house. 

The old lady was very precise and very particular ; and this 
ceremony had been observed for three successive summers with- 
out the slightest deviation from the accustomed form. 

The curtain rises. Old Mrs. Wardle with her ear 
trumpet, in the arbor. The fat boy in attendance. She 
sings with weak, quavering voice, to the tune of " The 
Last Rose of Summer." 

' Tis the last rose of summer, 

Left blooming alone ; 
All her lovely companions 

Are faded and gone ; 
No flower of her kindred, 

No rosebud is nigh, 
To reflect back her blushes, 

Or give sigh for sigh. 

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one 

To pine on the stem ; 
Since the lovely are sleeping, 

Go, sleep thou with them. 
Thus kindly I scatter 

Thy leaves o'er the bed, 
Where thy mates of the garden 

Lie scentless and dead. 

So, soon may I follow 

When friendships decay, 
And from love's shining circle 

The gems drop away ! 
When true hearts lie withered, 

And fond ones are flown, 
Oh ! who would inhabit 

This bleak world alone. 

The fat boy, instead of leaving the arbor, walks a few 
paces out of it, looks carefully round him in every direc- 



20 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 

tion, and returns towards her with great stealth and an 
air of the most profound mystery. 

The Reader resumes : " Missus! " (The fat boy is evi- 
dently screaming into the old lady's ear trumpet, and 
Jingle is walking about close to the arbor, listening to all 
he can hear. At that shout of " Missus," he stops to 
hear more. He is partly concealed by the evergreens.) 

" Missus! " 

"Well, Joe," said the trembling old lady. " I'm sure I've been 
a good mistress to you, Joe. You have invariably been treated 
very kindly. You have never had too much to do ; and you have 
always had enough to eat." 

This last was an appeal to the fat boy's most sensitive feelings. 
He seemed touched. 

" I knows I has." 

" Then what can you want to do now ? " said the old lady, gain- 
ing courage. 

" I wants to make your flesh creep," replied the boy. " What 
do you think I see in this very arbour last night? " 

"Bless us! What?" exclaimed the old lady, alarmed at the 
solemn manner of the corpulent youth. 

"The strange gentleman — him as had his arm hurt — a kissin' 
and huggin' " 

" Who, Joe? None of the servants, I hope." 

" Worser than that," roared the fat boy in the old lady's ear. 

" Not one of my grand-da' aters? " 

" Worser than that." 

"Worse than that, Joe! Who was it, Joe? I insist upon 

knowing." 

( The fat boy looks cautiously round, and having concluded his 
survey, shouts in the old lady s ear, or appears to.) 

" Miss Rachael ! " 

"What ! " said the old lady in a shrill tone. " Speak louder." 

«' Miss Rachael ! " [roars the fat boy in pantomime.) 

"My da'ater? " 

A train of nods which .the fat boy gave by way of assent com- 
municated a blanc-mange like motion to his fat cheeks. 

"And she suffered him ! " exclaimed the old lady. 

A grin stole over the fat boy's features as he said : 

" I see her kissin' of him agin." 

A momentary tableau — the old lady's anger — the 
•fat boy's triumph — Jingle's consternation. The curtain 
falls, the Reader proceeding : 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 



JINGLE AND THE SPINSTER AUNT. 

It was a remarkable coincidence perhaps, but it was neverthe- 
less a fact, that Mr. Jingle, within five minutes after his arrival at 
Manor Farm on the preceding night, had inwardly resolved to 
lay seige to the heart of the spinster aunt without delay. He had 
observation enough to see that his off-hand manner was by no 
means disagreeable to the fair object of his attack ; and he had 
more than a strong suspicion that she possessed that most desira- 
ble of all requisites, a small independence. The imperative neces- 
sity of ousting his rival by some means or other, flashed quickly 
upon him, and he immediately resolved to adopt certain proceed- 
ings tending to that end and object, without a moment's delay. 
Fielding tells us that man is fire, and woman tow, and the Prince 
of Darkness sets a light to 'em. Mr. Jingle knew that young men 
to spinster aunts are as lighted gas to gunpowder, and he deter- 
mined to essay the effect of an explosion without loss of time. 

Full of reflections upon this important decision, he crept from 
his place of concealment, and, under cover of the shrubs before 
mentioned, approached the house. Fortune seemed determined 
to favour his design. Mr. Tupman and the rest of the gentlemen 
left the garden by the side gate just as he obtained a view of it ; 
and the young ladies, he knew, had walked out alone soon after 
breakfast. The coast was clear. 

Curtain rises. A parlour. The Spinster Aunt knit- 
ting. Jingle peeping in — 
The Reader : 

The breakfast parlour door was partially open. He peeped in. 
The spinster aunt was knitting. He coughed ; she looked up and 
smiled. Hesitation formed no part of Mr. Alfred Jingle's charac- 
ter. He laid his finger on his lips mysteriously, walked in, and 
closed the door. 

"Miss Wardle," said Mr. Jingle, with affected earnestness, 
"forgive intrusion — short acquaintance — no time for ceremony — all 
discovered." 

"Sir!" said the spinster aunt, rather astonished by the un- 
expected apparition, and somewhat doubtful of Mr. Jingle's san- 

ity - •* 

" Hush! " said Mr. Jingle, in a stage whisper;- — " large boy — 

dumpling face — round eyes— rascal ! " Here he shook his head 

expressively, and the spinster aunt trembled with agitation. 

" I presume you allude to Joseph, sir?" said the lady making 
an effort to appear composed. 

" Yes, ma'am — damn that Joe! — treacherous dog, Joe — told the 
old lady— old lady furious — wild — raving — arbour— Tupman — kis- 



22 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK. CLUB. 

sing and hugging — all that sort of thing — eh, ma'am — eh?" 

" Mr. Jingle," said the spinster aunt, " if you came here, sir, to 
insult me " 

" Not at all — by no means," replied the unabashed Mr. Jingle ; 
— " overheard the tale — came to warn you of your danger — tender 
my services — prevent the hubbub. Never mind— think it an in- 
sult — leave the room ;" and he turned, as if to carry the threat 
into execution. 

" What shall I do ? " said the poor spinster, bursting into tears. 
"My brother will be furious ! " 

" Of course he will," said Mr. Jingle, pausing — "outrageous." 

" Oh, Mr. Jingle, what can I say ? " exclaimed the spinster aunt, 
in another flood of despair. 

"Say he dreamt it," replied Mr. Jingle, coolly. 

A ray of comfort darted across the mind of the spinster aunt at 
this suggestion. Mr. Jingle perceived it, and followed up his 
advantage. 

"Pooh, pooh! — nothing more easy — blackguard boy — lovely 
woman — fat boy horsewhipped — you believed— end of matter — 
all comfortable." 

That insinuating gentleman sighed deeply, fixed his eyes on 
the spinster aunt's face for a couple of minutes, started melodra- 
matically, and then suddenly withdrew them. 

"You seem unhappy, Mr. Jingle," said the lady, in a plaintive 
voice. " May I show my gratitude for your kind interference by 
inquiring into the cause, with a view, if possible, to its removal ? " 

" Ha! " exclaimed Mr. Jingle, with another start — "removal! 
remove my unhappiness, and your love bestowed upon a man who 
is insensible to the blessing — who even now contemplates a design 
upon the affections of the niece of the creature who — but no; he 
is my friend : I will not expose his vices. Miss Wardle — fare- 
well ! " At the conclusion of this address, the most consecutive 
he was ever known to utter, Mr. Jingle applied to his eyes the 
remnant of a handkerchief before noticed, and turned towards the 
door. 

" Stay, Mr. Jingle ! " said the spinster aunt emphatically. "You 
have made an allusion to Mr. Tupman — explain it." 

" Never!" exclaimed Jingle, with a professional (/. e. theatri- 
cal) air. " Never! " and, by way of showing that he had no de- 
sire to be questioned further, he drew a chair close to that of the 
spinster aunt and sat down. 

" Mr. Jingle," said the aunt, " I entreat — I implore you, if 
there is any dreadful mystery connected with Mr. Tupman, re- 
veal it." 

"Can I," said Mr. Jingle, fixing his eyes on the aunt's face — 
"can I see — lovely creature — sacrificed at the shrine — heartless 
avarice?" He appeared to be struggling with various conflict- 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 23 

ing emotions for a few seconds, and then said in a low, deep 
voice — 

" Tupman only wants your money." 

"The wretch!" exclaimed the spinster, with energetic indig- 
nation. (Mr. Jingle's doubts were resolved. She had money.) 

" More than that," said Jingle — " loves another." 

"Another! " ejaculated the spinster. " Who ? ' 

" Short girl — black eyes — niece Emily." 

There was a pause. 

Now, if there were one individual in the whole world of whom 
the spinster aunt entertained a mortal and deep-rooted jealousy, 
it was this identical niece. The colour rushed over her face and 
neck, and she tossed her head in silence with an air of ineffable 
contempt. At last, biting her thin lips, and bridling up, she 
said— 

" It can't be. I won't believe it." 

" Watch 'em," said Jingle. 

" I will," said the aunt. 

" Watch his looks." 

"I will." 

" His whispers.' 

"I will." 

" He'll sit next her at table. 

" Let him." 

" He'll flatter her." 

" Let him." 

" He'll pay her every possible attention." 

" Let him." 

"And he'll cut you." 

"Cut me!" screamed the spinster aunt. "He cut me; 
he! " and she trembled with rage and disappointment. 

" You will convince yourself? " said Jingle. 

"I will." 

" You'll show your spirit ? ' 

"I will." 

" You'll not have him afterwards?" 

" Never." 

"You'll take somebody else ? " 

"Yes." 

" You shall." 

Mr. Jingle fell on his kness (curtain falls), remained thereupon 
for five minutes thereafter: and rose the accepted lover of the 
spinster aunt : conditionally upon Tupman's perjury being made 
clear and manifest. 

The burden of proof lay with Mr. Alfred Jingle ; and he pro- 
duced his evidence that very day at dinner. The spinster aunt 
could hardly believe her eyes. Mr. Tracy Tupman was estab- 



24 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK. CLUB. 

lished at Emily's side, ogling, whispering, and smiling, in oppo- 
sition to Mr. Snodgrass. Not a word, not a look, not a glance 
did he bestow upon his heart's pride of the evening before. 

This scene between Jingle and Miss Wardle gives the 
best of pantomimes if well acted to a spirited reading. 

A DILEMMA WITH PICKWICK IN IT. 

This pantomime requires good actors, particularly a 
Mrs. Bardell understanding the situation of her counter- 
part. The prolonged description of the fainting scene as 
given by Dickens can be acted in a trice, and without 
the accompaniment of the Reader — but I will give enough 
of the text for the actors' direction, and the Reader can 
omit reading to their acting or not, as they see fit, be- 
tween the sentences: " Don't, there's a good creature! " 
and Pickwick's crying out, " Take this villain away ! " 

Reader : 

Mr. Pickwick's apartments in Goswell Street, although on a 
limited scale, were not only of a very neat and comfortable de- 
scription, but peculiarly adapted for the residence of a man of his 
genius and observation. 

The only other inmates of the house were a large man and a 
small boy ; the first a lodger, the second a production of Mrs. 
Bardell's. The large man was always home precisely at ten 
o'clock at night, at which hour he regularly condensed him- 
self into the limits of a dwarfish French bedstead in the back-par- 
lour; and the infantine sports and gymnastic exercises of Master 
Bardell were exclusively confined to the neighboring pavements 
and gutters. Cleanliness and quiet reigned throughout the house; 
and in it Mr. Pickwick's will was law. 

To any one acquainted with these points of the domestic econ- 
omy of the establishment, and conversant with the admirable reg- 
ulation of Mr. Pickwick's mind, his appearance and behaviour on 
the morning previous to that which had been fixed upon for the 
journey to Eatanswill, would have been most mysterious and un- 
accountable. He paced the room to and fro with hurried steps, 
popped his head out of the window at intervals of about three 
minutes each, constantly referred to his watch, and exhibited 
many other manifestations of impatience, very unusual with him. 
It was evident that something of great importance was in contem- 
plation, but what that something was not even Mrs. Bardell her- 
self had been enabled to discover. 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 2$ 

Curtain rises. A plain English sitting room. Mrs. 
Barclell bustling about, dusting and putting to rights, not 
unmindful of Mr. Pickwick's uneasy presence. 

" Mrs. Bardell," said Mr. Pickwick, at last, as that amiable fe- 
male approached the termination of a prolonged dusting of the 
apartment. 

"Sir," said Mrs. Bardell. 

" Your little boy is a very long time gone." 

'* Why it's a good long way to the Borough, sir," remonstrated 
Mrs. Bardell. 

"Ah," said Mr. Pickwick, "very true ; so it is." 

Mr. Pickwick relapsed into silence. Mrs. Bardell resumed her 
dusting. 

" Mrs. Bardell," said Mr. Pickwick, at the expiration of a few 
minutes. 

"Sir," said Mrs, Bardell again. 

" Do you think it's a much greater expense to keep two people 
than to keep one ?" 

" La, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell, colouring up to the 
very border of her cap, as she fancied she observed a species of 
matrimonial twinkle in the eyes of her lodger. "La, Mr. Pick- 
wick, what a question ! " 

"Well, but do you?" inquired Mr. Pickwick. 

"That depends," said Mrs. Bardell approaching the duster very 
near to Mr. Pickwick's elbow, which was planted on the table, 
" that depends a good deal upon the person, you know, Mr. Pick- 
wick ; and whether it's a saving and careful person, sir." 

"That's very true," said Mr. Pickwick, " but the person I have 
in my eye (here he looked very hard at Mrs. Bardell) 1 think pos- 
sesses these qualities ; and has, moreover, a considerable knowl- 
edge of the world, and a great deal of sharpness, Mrs. Bardell ; 
which may be of material use to me." 

"La, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell ; the crimson rising to 
her cap-border again. 

" I do," said Mr. Pickwick, growing energetic, as was his wont 
in speaking of a subject which interested him, " I do, indeed ; and 
to tell you the truth, Mrs. Bardell, I have made up my mind." 

" Dear me, sir," exclaimed Mrs. Bardell. 

" You'll think it very strange now," said the amiable Mr. Pick- 
wick, with a good-humored glance at his companion, "that I 
never consulted you about this matter, and never even mentioned 
it, till 1 sent your little boy out this morning — eh? " 

Mrs. Bardell could only reply by a look. She had long wor- 
shipped Mr. Pickwick at a distance, but here she was, all at once, 
raised to a pinnacle to which her wildest and most extravagant 
hopes had never dared to aspire. Mr. Pickwick was going to pro- 



26 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 

pose — a deliberate plan, too— sent her little boy to the Borough, to 
get him out of the way — how thoughtful — how considerate ! 

"Well," said Mr. Pickwick, " what do you think?" 

"Oh, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell, trembling with agita- 
tion, " you're very kind, sir." 

"It'll save you a good deal of trouble, won't it?" said Mr. 
Pickwick. 

"Oh, I never thought anything of the trouble, sir," replied Mrs. 
Bardell ; '* and of course I should take more trouble to please you 
then than ever; but it is so kind of you Mr. Pickwick, to have so 
much consideration for my loneliness." 

"Ah, to be sure," said Mr. Pickwick ; " I never thought of that. 
When I am in town, you'll always have somebody to sit with you. 
To be sure, so you will." 

" I'm sure I ought to be a very happy woman," said Mrs. Bar- 
dell." 

"And your little boy " said Mr. Pickwick. 

" Bless his heart," interposed Mrs. Bardell, with a maternal 
sob. 

" He, too, will have a companion," resumed Mr. Pickwick, " a 
lively one, who'll teach him, I'll be bound, more tricks in a week 
than he would ever learn in a year." And Mr. Pickwick smiled 
placidly. 

" Oh you dear " said Mrs. Bardell. 

Mr. Pickwick started. 

"Oh you kind, good, playful dear," said Mrs. Bardell. With- 
out more ado, she rose from her chair, flung her arms round Mr. 
Pickwick's neck, with a cataract of tears and a chorus of sobs. 

" Bless my soul," cried the astonished Mr. Pickwick ; — " Mrs. 
Bardell, my good woman — dear me, what a situation — pray con- 
sider — Mrs. Bardell, don't — if anybody should come " 

"Oh, let them come," exclaimed Mrs. Bardell, frantically ; "I'll 
never leave you — dear, kind, good soul ; " and with these words 
Mrs. Bardell clung the tighter. 

The tramp of the club ascending the stairs is heard 
here. 

" Mercy upon me," said Mr. Pickwick, struggling violently; " I 
hear somebody coming up the stairs. Don't, don't, there's a good 
creature, don't. ' 

Enter the Club and Master Bardell. Now let the 
Reader stop, and the actors follow the scene as given by- 
Dickens. 

But entreaty and remonstrance were alike unavailing; for Mrs. 
Bardell had fainted in Mr. Pickwick's arms; and before he could 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 2? 

gain time to deposit her on a chair, Master Bardell entered the 
room, ushering in Mr. Tupman, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass. 

Mr. Pickwick was struck motionless and speechless. He stood 
with his lovely burden in his arms, gazing vacantly on the coun- 
tenances of his friends, without the slightest attempt at recognition 
or explanation. They, in their turn, stared at him; and Master 
Bardell, in his turn, stared at everybody. 

The astonishment of the Pickwickians was so absorbing, and the 
perplexity of Mr. Pickwick was so extreme, that they might have 
remained in exactly the same relative situations until the sus- 
pended animation of the lady was restored, had it not been for a 
most beautiful and touching expression of filial affection on the 
part of her youthful son. Clad in a tight suit of corduroy, spangled 
with brass buttons of a very considerable size, he at first stood at 
the door, astounded and uncertain ; but by degrees the impression 
that his mother must have suffered some personal damage per- 
vaded his partially developed mind, and considering Mr. Pickwick 
as the aggressor, he set up an appalling and semi-earthly kind of 
howling, and butting forward with his head, commenced assailing 
that immortal gentleman about the back and legs with such blows 
and pinches as the strength of his arm, and the violence of his ex- 
citement, allowed. 

Reader : 

"Take this little villain away," said the agonized Mr. Pickwick, 
"he's mad." 

"What is the matter?" said the three tongue-tied Pickwick- 
ians. 

" I don't know," replied Mr. Pickwick, pettishly. " Take away 
the boy " {here Mr. Winkle carries the interesting boy, screaming 
and struggling, to the further end of the apartment. ) "Now help 
me, lead this woman down stairs." 

"Oh, I am better now," said Mrs. Bardell, faintly. 

" Let me lead you down stairs," said the ever gallant Mr. Tup- 
man. 

"Thank you, sir — thank you," exclaimed Mrs. Bardell, hyster- 
ically. (Down-stairs she is led accordingly, accompanied by her 
affectionate son.) 

And the curtain drops upon the bewilderment of the 
Pickwick Club — unless it is thought best to let the Club 
sing "Come haste to the Wedding," Pickwick musing 
sadly in the background. 



28 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 



COME, HASTE TO THE WEDDING. 

Come, haste to the Wedding, ye friends and ye neighbors, 

The lovers their bliss can no longer delay, 
Forget all your sorrows, your cares and your labors, 
And let every heart beat with rapture to-day. 
Ye votaries all, attend to our call, 
Come, revel in pleasure that never can cloy. 

Come, see rural felicity, 
Which love and innocence ever enjoy. 

Let envy, let pride, let hate and ambition, 

Still crowd to and beat at the breast of the great. 
To such wretched passions we give no admission, 
But leave them alone to the wise ones of State. 

We boast of no wealth, but contentment and health. 
In mirth and in friendship our moments employ. 
Come, see rural felicity, etc. 

With reason we taste of each heart-stirring pleasure, 

With reason we drink of the full flowing bowl ; 
Are jocund and gay, but all within measure, 
For fatal excess will enslave the free soul. 

Come, come at our bidding, to this happy Wedding, 
No care shall intrude here our bliss to annoy. 
Come, see rural felicity, etc. 

DILEMMA NUMBER TWO. 

The Reader begins, before the curtain rises: 

"This is your room, sir," said the chambermaid. And bidding 
Mr. Pickwick good night, she retired, and left him alone. 

Mr. Pickwick sat himself down in a chair before the fire, and 
fell into a train of rambling meditations. First he thought of his 
friends, and wondered when they would join him; then Iris mind 
reverted to Mrs. Martha Bardell ; and then it came back to the 
Great White Horse at Ipswich, with sufficient clearness to convince 
Mr. Pickwick that he was falling asleep : so he roused himself, and 
began to undress, when he recollected he had left his watch on 
the table down-stairs. 

Now, this watch was a special favourite with Mr. Pickwick, hav- 
ing been carried about, beneath the shadow of his waistcoat, for a 
greater number of years than we feel called upon to state at pres- 
ent. The possibility of going to sleep, unless it were ticking gently 
beneath his pillow, or in the watch-pocket over his head, had 
never entered Mr. Pickwick's brain. So as it was pretty late now, 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 



and he was unwilling to ring his bell at that hour of the night, he 
slipped on his coat, of which he had just divested himself, and 
taking the japanned candlestick in his hand, walked quietly down- 
stairs. 

The more stairs Mr. Pickwick went down, the more stairs there 
seemed to be to descend, and again and again, when Mr. Pickwick 
got into some narrow passage, and began to congratulate himself 
on having gained the ground-floor, did another flight of stairs 
appear before his astonished eyes. At last he reached a stone 
hall, which he remembered to have seen when he entered the 
house. Passage after passage did he explore ; room after room 
did he peep into ; at length, just as he was on the point of giving 
up the search in despair, he opened the door of the identical room 
in which he had spent the evening, and beheld his missing prop- 
erty on the table. 

Mr. Pickwick seized the watch in triumph, and proceeded to 
retrace his steps to his bed-chamber. If his progress downwards 
had been attended with difficulties and uncertainty, his journey 
back was infinitely more perplexing. Rows of doors garnished 
with boots of every shape, make and size, branched off in every 
possible direction. A dozen times did he softly turn the handle 
of some bed room door, which resembled his own, when a gruff 
cry from within of 'Who the devil is that?' caused him to steal 
away on tiptoe. He was on the verge of despair when an open 
door attracted his attention. He peeped in — right at lust." 

Curtain Rises. 

A bed room. Clothes bars draped with sheets may- 
represent the curtained bed. Lap them well where Pick- 
wick is to peep out, fastening them at the bottom. A 
little dressing table, a candle, a powder box. Pickwick 
walks in. 

Reader : 

"There was no light save that of the low fire. He thought he 
had blown out his candle in closing his door behind him. "No 
matter," said Mr. Pickwick, " I can undress by the light of the 
fire." Mr. Pickwick sat down on the rush-bottomed chair, and 
leisurely divested himself of his shoes and gaiters. He then took 
off and folded up his coat, waistcoat, and neckcloth, and slowly 
drawing on his tasselled nightcap, secured it firmly on his head, 
by tying beneath his chin the strings which he always had 
attached to that article of dress. It was at this moment that the 
absurdity of his recent bewilderment struck upon his mind ; and 
throwing himself back in the rush-bottomed chair, Mr. Pickwick 



30 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK. CLUB. 

laughed to himself so heartily, that it would have been quite 
delightful for any man of well-constituted mind to have watched 
the smiles which expanded his amiable features as they shone 
forth from beneath the nightcap. 

" It is the best idea," said Mr. Pickwick to himself, smiling till 
he almost cracked the nightcap strings — " it is the best idea, my 
losing myself in this place, and wandering about those staircases, 
that 1 ever heard of. Droll, droll, very droll." Here Mr. Pick- 
wick smiled again, a broader smile than before, and was about to 
continue the process of undressing, in the best possible humour, 
when he was suddenly stopped by a most unexpected interruption ; 
to wit, the entrance into the room of some person with a candle, 
who, after locking the door, advanced to the dressing-table, and 
set down the light upon it. 

The smile that played on Mr. Pickwick's features was instantan- 
eously lost in a look of the most unbounded aiid wonder-stricken 
surprise. The person, whoever it was, had come in so suddenly 
and with so little noise, that Mr. Pickwick had had no time to 
call out, or oppose their entrance. Who could it be? A robber? 
Some evil-minded person who had seen him come up-stairs with 
a handsome watch in his hand, perhaps. What was he to do? 

Pickwick goes behind the bed curtain. 

The only way in which Mr. Pickwick could catch a glimpse of 
his mysterious visitor, with the least danger of being seen himself, 
was by creeping on to the bed, and peeping out from between the 
curtains on the opposite side. To this manoeuvre he accordingly 
resorted. Keeping the curtains carefully closed with his hand, so 
that nothing more of him could be seen than his face and night- 
cap, and putting on his spectacles, he mustered up courage, and 
looked out. 

Mr. Pickwick almost fainted with horror and dismay. Standing 
before the dressing-glass was a middle-aged lady in yellow curl- 
papers, busily engaged in brushing what ladies call their "back 
hair." However the unconscious middle-aged lady came into 
that room, it was quite clear that she contemplated remaining 
there for the night. 

"Bless my soul," thought Mr. Pickwick, "what a dreadful 
thing ! " 

" Hem ! " said the lady ; and in went Mr. Pickwick's head with 
automaton-like rapidity. 

" I never met with anything so awful as this," thought poor 
Mr. Pickwick, the cold perspiration starting in drops upon his 
nightcap. "Never. This is fearful." 

It was quite impossible to resist the urgent desire to see what 
was going forward. So, out went Mr. Pickwick's head again. The 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 



prospect was worse than before. The middle-aged lady had fin- 
ished arranging her hair : had carefully enveloped it in a muslin 
nightcap with a small plaited border ; and was gazing pensively 
at the mirror. 

"This matter is growing alarming," reasoned Mr. Pickwick 
with himself. " I can't allow things to go on in this way. By the 
self-possession of that lady, it is clear to me that I must have come 
into the wrong room. If I call out, she'll alarm the house ; but 
if I remain here, the consequences will be still more frightful." 

Here, the lady may sing, or hum some sentimental tune, 
Mr. Pickwick meanwhile expressing his discomfiture in 
vigorous pantomime. 

Mr. Pickwick, it is quite unnecessary to say, was one of the most 
modest and delicate-minded of mortals. The very idea of exhibit- 
ing his nightcap to a lady overpowered him, but he had tied those 
confounded strings in a knot, and, do what he would, he couldn't 
get it off. The disclosure must be made. There was only one 
other way of doing it. He shrunk behind the curtains, and called 
out very loudly — 

" Ha — hum ! " 

That the lady started at this unexpected sound was evident, by 
her falling up against the rushlight shade ; that she persuaded her- 
self it must have been the effect of imagination was equally clear, 
for when Mr. Pickwick, under the impression that she had fainted 
away, stone-dead from fright, ventured to peep out again, she was 
gazing pensively on the fire as before. 

" Most extraordinary female this," thought Mr. Pickwick, pop- 
ping in again. " Ha — hum ! " 

These last sounds, so like those in which, as legends inform us, 
the ferocious giant Blunderbore was in the habit of expressing his 
opinion that it was time to lay the cloth, were too distinctly audible 
to be again mistaken for the workings of fancy. 

"Gracious Heavens!" said the middle-aged lady, "what's 
that ? ' ' 

" It's — it's — only a gentleman, ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick, from 
behind the curtains. 

"A gentleman! " said the lady, with a terrific scream. 

" It's all over," thought Mr. Pickwick. 

"A strange man!" shrieked the lady. Another instant, and 
the house would be alarmed. Her garments rustled as she rushed 
towards the door. 

"Ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick, thrusting out his head, in the 
extremity of his desperation. " Ma'am." 

Driven back into the remotest corner of the apartment, she stood 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK. CLU1 



staring wildly at Mr. Pickwick, while Mr. Pickwick in his turn 
stared wildly at her. 

"Wretch," said the lady, covering her eyes with her hands, 
" what do you want here ? " 

" Nothing, ma'am — nothing whatever, ma'am," said Mr. Pick- 
wick, earnestly. 

" Nothing ! " said the lady, looking up. 

" Nothing, ma'am, upon my honor," said Mr. Pickwick, nodding 
his head so energetically, that the tassel of his nightcap danced 
again. " 1 am almost ready to sink, ma'am, beneath the confusion 
of addressing a lady in my nightcap (here the lady hastily snatched 
off hers), but I can't get it off, ma'am (here Mr. Pickwick gave it 
a tremendous tug, in proof of the statement). It is evident to me, 
ma'am, now, that I have mistaken this bedroom for my own. I 
had not been here five minutes, ma'am, when you suddenly 
entered it." 

" If this improbable story be really true, sir," said the lady, sob- 
bing violently, '* you will leave it instantly." 

"I will, ma'am, with the greatest pleasure," replied Mr. Pick- 
wick. 

" Instantly, sir," said the lady. 

"Certainly, ma'am," interposed Mr. Pickwick very quickly. 
"Certainly, ma'am. I — I — am very sorry, ma'am," said Mr. 
Pickwick, making his appearance at the bottom of the bed, "to 
have been the innocent occasion of this alarm and emotion ; deeply 
sorry, ma'am." 

The lady pointed to the door. 

One excellent quality of Mr. Pickwick's character was beauti- 
fully displayed at this moment, under the most trying circum- 
stances. Although he had hastily put on his hat over his nightcap, 
after the manner of the old patrol ; although he carried his shoes 
and gaiters in his hand, and his coat and waistcoat over his arm, 
nothing could subdue his native politeness. 

" I am exceedingly sorry, ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick, bowing 
very low. 

" If you are, sir, you will at once leave the room," said the lady. 

"Immediately, ma'am; this instant, ma'am," said Mr. Pick- 
wick, opening the door, and dropping both his shoes with a loud 
crash in so doing. 

"I trust, ma'am," resumed Mr. Pickwick, gathering up his 
shoes, and turning round to bow again, "I trust, ma'am, that my 
unblemished character, and the devoted respect I entertain for 

your sex, will plead as some slight excuse for this " But 

before Mr. Pickwick could conclude the sentence, the lady had 
thrust him into the passage, and locked and bolted the door behind 
him. 

The curtain falls with his exit. 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 33 

SAM VISITS HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW. 

The Reader : 

"The Marquis of Granby was the name of the roadside public 
house, kept by Mrs. Weller, (Tony Weller's second VVentur), and 
was a model of its kind, just large enough to be convenient, just 
small enough to be snug. Sam having asked Mr. Pickwick for a 
leave of absence, as it had occurred to him that he ought to go 
down to see his father, and pay his duty to his mother-in-law, ar- 
rives at the Marquis of Granby to find Stiggins the Shepherd there 
before him." 

Curtain rises. Stiggins and Mrs. Weller beside a tea 
table. A painted fireplace, blazing fire, and tea kettle 
seem indispensable for this scene. The toast must be 
genuine, for Stiggins' appetite cannot be wholly feigned, 
and decanters of cold tea may serve for " pine apple rum." 
On the chair beside Stiggins is his faded old umbrella, 
his broad brimmed hat and beaver gloves. Mrs. Weller 
should have a pair of bellows and be blowing the fire. 

"A small tray of tea things was arranged on the table ; a plate 
of hot buttered toast was gently simmering before the fire ; and 
the red-nosed man himself was busily engaged in converting a 
large slice of bread into the same agreeable edible, through the 
instrumentality of a long brass toasting-fork. Beside him stood a 
glass of reeking hot pine-apple rum-and-water, with a slice of lemon 
in it ; and every time the red-nosed man stopped to bring the round 
of bread to his eye, with the view of ascertaining how it got on, he 
imbibed a drop or two of the hot pine-apple rum-and-water, and 
smiled upon the rather stout lady, as she blew the fire." 

Sam's loud rap is heard on the door. Then he steps 
in, and the Reader goes on :— 

" Now, then ! " said a shrill female voice, the instant Sam thrust 
in his head at the door, " what do you want, young man? " 

"Governor in?" inquired Sam, in reply to the question. 

" No, he isn't," replied Mrs. Weller, for the rather stout lady 
was no other than the quondam relict and sole executrix of the 
dead-and-gone Mr. Clarke.. "No, he isn't, and I don't expect 
him, either." 

" I suppose he's a drivin' up to-day ?" said Sam. 

" He may be, or he may not, ' replied Mrs. Weller, buttering 
the round of toast which the red-nosed man had just finished. " I 



34 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 

don't know, and, what's more, I don't care. Ask a blessin', Mr. 
Stiggins." 

The red-nosed man did as he was desired, and instantly com- 
menced on the toast with fierce voracity. 

"Mother-in-law," said Sam, "how are you?" 

"Why, I do believe he is a We Her ! " (Mrs. W., raises her 
eyes to Sam's face, with no very gratified expression of counte- 
nance.) 

"I ray the r think he is," said the imperturbable Sam, "and I 
hope this here reverend gen'l'm'n '11 excuse me saying that 1 wish 
I was the Weller as owns you, mother-in-law." 

This was a double-barrelled compliment. It implied that Mrs. 
W T eller was a most agreeable female, and also that Mr. Stiggins 
had a clerical appearance. It made a visible impression at once ; 
and Sam followed up his advantage by kissing his mother-in-law. 

"Get along with you," said Mrs. Weller, pushing him away. 

" For shame, young man! " said the gentleman with the red 
nose. 

"No offence, sir, no offence," replied Sam; "you're wery right, 
though ; it ain't the right sort o' thing, wen mothers-in-law is 
young and good-looking, is it, sir? " 

" It's all vanity," said Mr. Stiggins. 

" Ah, so it is," said Mrs. Weller, setting her cap to rights. 

Sam thought it was, too, but he held his peace. However, 
there he was ; and as he couldn't be decently turned out, they all 
three sat down to tea. 

" And how's father?" said Sam. 

At this inquiry, Mrs. Weller raised her hands, and turned up her 
eyes, as if the subject were too painful to be alluded to. 

Mr. Stiggins groaned. 

"What's the matter with that 'ere gen'l'm'n?" inquired Sam. 

" He's shocked at the way you father goes on in," replied Mrs. 
Weller. 

"Oh, he is, is he? " said Sam. 

" And with too good reason," added Mrs. Weller, gravely. 

Mr. Stiggins took up a fresh piece of toast, and groaned 
heavily. 

" He is a dreadful reprobate," said Mrs. Weller. 

" A man of wrath ! " exclaimed Mr. Stiggins. He took a large 
semicircular bite out of the toast, and groaned again. 

Sam felt very strongly disposed to give the Reverend Mr. Stiggins 
something to groan for, but he repressed his inclination, and 
merely asked, " What's the old 'un up to, now?" 

" Up to, indeed ! " said Mrs. Weller. " Oh, he has a hard heart. 
Night after night does this excellent man — don't frown, Mr. 
Stiggins; I will say you are an excellent man — come and sit here, 
f or hours together, and it has not the least effect upon him." 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 35 

"Well, that is odd," said Sam ; " it 'ud have a wery consider- 
able effect upon me, if I wos in his place; I know that." 

"The fact is, my young friend," said Mr. Stiggins, solemnly, 
"he has an obdurate bosom. Oh, my youngfriend, who else could 
have resisted the pleading of sixteen of our fairest sisters, and with- 
stood their exhortations to subscribe to our noble society for provid- 
ing the infant negroes in the West Indies with flannel waistcoats 
and moral pocket-handkerchiefs? " 

"What's amoral pocket-ankercher ? " said Sam ; " I never see 
one o' them articles o' furniter." 

" Those which combine amusement with instruction, my young 
friend," replied Mr. Stiggins : "blending select tales with wood- 
cuts." 

"Oh, I know," said Sam; "them as hangs up in the linen- 
drapers' shops, with beggars' petitions and all that 'ere upon 
'em." 

Mr. Stiggins began a third round of toast, and nodded assent. 

"And he wouldn't be persuaded by the ladies, wouldn't he?" 
said Sam. 

"Sat and smoked his pipe, and said the infant negroes were — 
what did he say the infant negroes were? " said Mrs. Weller. 

" Little humbugs," replied Mr. Stiggins, deeply affected. 

" Said the infant negroes were little humbugs," repeated Mrs. 
Weller. And they both groaned at the atrocious conduct of the 
old gentleman, and then withdrew, leaving Sam to finish his supper 
alone. He was thoughtfully surveying the apartments, when the 
London coach deposited Mr. Weller, senior, at the door; (sound 
of hot rt outside). 

Enter Tony Weller. 

"What, Sammy ! " exclaimed the father. 

"What, old Nobs!" ejaculated the son. And they shook 
hands heartily. 

" Wery glad to see you, Sammy," said the elder Mr. Weller, 
" though how you've managed to get over your mother-in-law is 
a mystery to me. I only vish you'd write me out the receipt, 
that's all." 

" Hush ! " said Sam, "she's at home, old feller." 

"She ain' vithin hearing," replied Mr. Weller; "she always 
goes and blows up, down-stairs, for a couple of hours arter tea ; so 
we'll just give ourselves a damp, Sammy." 

Saying this, Mr. Weller mixed two glasses of spirits and water, 
and produced a couple of pipes. The father and son sitting down 
opposite each other : Sam on one side the fire, in the high-backed 
chair, and Mr. Weller, senior, on the other, in an easy ditto : they 
proceeded to enjoy themselves with all due gravity. 



36 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 

" Anybody beenhere, Sammy ?" asked Mr. Weller, senior, drily, 
after a long silence. 

Sam nodded an expressive assent. 

" Red-nosed chap ?" inquired Mr. Weller. 

Sam nodded again. 

"Amiable man that 'ere, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, smoking 
violently. 

"Seems so," observed Sam. 

"Good hand at accounts," said Mr. Weller. 

" Is he?" said Sam. 

"Borrows eighteen-pence on Monday, and comes on Tuesday 
for a shillin' to make it up half-a-crown ; calls again on Vensday 
for another half-crown to make it five shillin' s ; and goes on doub- 
ling, till he gets it up to a five pound note in no time, like them 
sums in the 'rithmetic book 'bout the nails in the horse's shoes, 
Sammy." 

Sam intimated by a nod that he recollected the problem alluded 
to by his parent. 

" So you vouldn't subscribe to the flannel veskits ?" said Sam, 
after another interval of smoking. 

" Cert'nly not," replied Mr. Weller; " what's the good o' 
flannel veskits to the young niggers abroad? But I'll tell you 
what it is, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, lowering his voice, and 
bending across the fire-place: "I'd come down wery handsome 
towards strait veskits for some people at home." 

As Mr. Weller said this, he slowly recovered his former position, 
and winked at his first-born in a profound manner. 

" It cert'nly seems a queer start to send out pocket-ankerchers 
to people as don't know the use on 'em," observed Sam. 

"They're alvays a doin' some gammon of that sort, Sammy," 
replied his father. " T'other Sunday I wos walkin' up the road, 
wen who should I see, a standin' at a chapel door, with a blue 
soup-plate in her hand, but your mother-in-law ! I werily believe 
there was change for a couple o' suv'rins in it, then, Sammy, 
all in ha'pence ; and as the people come out, they rattled the 
pennies in, till you'd ha' thought that no mortal plate as ever was 
baked could ha' stood the wear and tear. What d'ye think it was 
all for?" 

" For another tea-drinkin', perhaps," said Sam. 

" Not a bit on it," replied the father; " for the shepherd's water- 
rate, Sammy." 

" The shepherd's water-rate !" said Sam. 

"Ay," replied Mr. Weller, "there was three quarters owin'.and 
the shepherd hadn't paid a farden, not he — perhaps it might be 
on account that water warn't o' so much use to him, for it's wery 
little o' that tap he drinks, Sammy, wery ; he knows a trick worth 
a good half-dozen of that, he does. Hows'ever, it warn't paid, 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. $7 

and so they cuts the water off. Down goes the shepherd to chapel, 
gives out as he's a persecuted saint, and says he hopes the heart 
of the turncock as cut the water off, '11 be softened, and turned in 
the right vay : but he rayther thinks he's booked for somethin' 
uncomfortable. Upon this, the women calls a meetin', sings a 
hymn, wotes your mother-in-law into the chair, wolunteersa collec- 
tion next Sunday, and hands it all over to the shepherd. And if 
he ain't got enough out on 'em, Sammy, to make him free of the 
water company for life," said Mr. Weller, in conclusion, " I'm 
one Dutchman, and you're another, and that's all about it." 

Mr. Weller smoked for some minutes in silence, and then 
resumed: 

"The worst o' these here shepherds is, my boy, that they 
reg'larly turns the heads of all the young ladies about here. Lord 
bless their little hearts, they thinks it's all right, and don't know no 
better; but they're the wictims o' gammon, Samivel, they're the 
wictims o' gammon." 

" I s'pose they are," said Sam. 

" Nothin' else," said Mr. Weller, shaking his head gravely : 
" and wot aggrawates me, Samivel, is to see 'em a wastin' all their 
time and labour in making clothes for copper-coloured people as 
don't want' em, and takin' no notice of the flesh-coloured Chris- 
tians as do. If I'd my vay, Samivel, I'd just stick, some o' these 
here lazy shepherds behind a heavy wheelbarrow, and run em up 
and down a fourteen-inch-wide plank all day. That 'ud shake the 
nonsense out of 'em, if any thin' vould." 

Knocking the ashes out of his pipe. Just then Mrs. 
Weller's shrill voice was heard outside. 

" Here's your dear relation, Sammy," said Mr. Weller; (Mrs. 
W. hurried into the room.) 

" Oh, you've come back, have you?" said Mrs. Weller. 

" Yes, my dear," replied Mr. Weller, filling a fresh pipe. 

" Has Mr. Stiggins been back ?" said Mrs. Weller. 

"No, my dear, he hasn't," replied Mr. Weller, lighting the pipe 
by the ingenious process of holding to the bowl thereof, between 
the tongs, a red-hot coal from the adjacent fire; "and what's more, 
my dear, I shall manage to surwive it, if he don't come back at 
all." 

" Ugh, you wretch!" said Mrs. Weller. 

"Thankee, my love," said Mr. Weller. 

"Come, come, father," said Sam, "none o' these little lovins' 
afore strangers. Here's the reverend gen'l'm'n a-comin' in 
now." (Enter Stiggins, hat over his eyes, decidedly unsteady on 
his feet. ) 

Mrs. Weller hastily wiped off the tears which she had just begun 



38 AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 

to force on ; and Mr. W. drew his chair sullenly into the chimney- 
corner. 

Mr. Stiggins was easily prevailed on to take another glass of 
the hot pine-apple rum-imd -water, and a second, and a third, and 
then to refresh himself with a slight supper, previous to beginning 
again. He sat on the same side as Mr. Weller, senior ; and every 
time he could contrive to do so, unseen by his wife, that gentleman 
indicated to his son the hidden emotions of his bosom by shaking 
his fist over the deputy shepherd's head : a process which afforded 
his son the most unmingled delight and satisfaction : the more 
especially as Mr. Stiggins went on, quietly drinking the hot pine- 
apple rum-and-water, wholly unconscious of what was going for- 
ward. 

At length Mr. Stiggins, with several most indubitable symptoms 
of having quite as much pine-apple rum-and-water about him as 
he could comfortably accommodate, took his hat and his leave. 

Mrs. Weller also withdrew, grumbling something about folks 
being kept up all night. Sam looked at his watch. It was later 
than he thought. 

' Goin', Sammy?" inquired Mr. Weller. 

"Off at once," replied Sam. 

" I vish you could muffle that 'ere Stiggins, and take him with 
you," said Mr. Weller. 

"I am ashamed on you! " said Sam, reproachfully; "what do 
you let him show his red nose in the Markis o' Granby at all 
for?" 

Mr. Weller the elder fixed on his son an earnest look, and 
replied, "'Cause I'm a married man, Samivel, 'cause I'm a 
married man. Wen you're a married man, Samivel, you'll under- 
stand a good many things as you don't understand now ; but 
vether it's worth while goin' through so much to learn so little, as 
the charity-boy said ven he got to the end of the alphabet, is a 
matter o' taste. / rayther think it isn't." 

" Well," said Sam, "good-bye." 

"Tar, tar, Sammy," replied his father. 

"I've only got to say this here," said Sam, stopping short, 
"that if / was the proprietor o' the Markis o' Granby, and that 
'ere Stiggins came and made toast in my bar, I'd " 

" What? " interposed Mr. Weller, with great anxiety. " What?" 

" — Pison his rum-and-water," said Sam. 

" No ! " said Mr. Weller, shaking his son eagerly by the hand, 
"would you raly, Sammy ; would you, though ?" 

" I would," said Sam. " I wouldn't be too hard upon him, at 
first. I'd drop him in the water-butt, and put the lid on ; and if 
I found he was insensible to kindness, I'd try the other pursva- 
sion." 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 



39 



The elder Mr. Weller bestowed a look of deep, unspeakable 
admiration on his son ; and, grasped his hand 

"Don't you think an old song would be good for us to part 
on Samuel ? But hist I've got this bit of advice to give you " 
" If ever you gets to up'ards o' fifty, and feels disposed to go a 
marryin anybody— no matter who— just you shut yourself up in 
your own room, if you've got one' and pison yourself off hand 
Hangin is wulgar, so don't you have nothin' to say to that. Pison 
yourself, Samivel my boy, pison yourself, and you'll be glad on it 
artervvards. & 

Sam nods approval and strikes up " Auld Lang Syne " 
the actors filing in and joining in the singing as they 
come. They should arrange themselves so that Pickwick 
: Club should be the central figures. It will add 
much to the effect of the grand finale if some of the 



and the Club should be the central figures. It will add 
much to the effect of the grand finale if some of tin 
actors stand upon chairs or a table in the back ground 



AULD LANG SYNE. 
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 

And never brought to min' ? 
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 

And days o' lang syne ? 
For auld lang syne, my dear, 

For auld lang syne, 
We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet, 
For auld lang syne. 

We twa hae run about the braes, 

And pu'd thegovvans fine ; 
But we've wander' d mony a' weary foot, 

Sin' auld lang syne. 

For auld lang syne, etc. 

We twa hae paidl't in the burn 

Frae morning sun till dine ; 
But seas between us braid hae roar'd 

Sin' auld lang syne. 

For auld lang syne, etc. 

And there's a hand, my trusty frien', 

And gie's a hand o' thine ; 
And we'll tak' a right gude willy-wauhgt 

tor auld lang syne. 

For auld lang syne, etc. 



40 



AN EVENING WITH THE PICKWICK CLUB. 



And surely ye'll be your pint stoup, 

As surely I'll be mine ! 
And we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet, 

For auld lang syne. 

For auld lang syne, etc. 

And then Good Nicrht to the Pickvvickians. 



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AN EVENING WITH PICKWICK. 
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vow'd that he'd ev - er be true, And I plighted my troth yes-treen. 






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Copyright, 1881, by Henry Holt & Co. 
I 



AN EVENING WITH PICKWICK. 
THERE'S NAE ROOM FOR TWA. 



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' Jen-ny,'' said Jem, "maun walk be-hin', There's nae room for twa." "There's 



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Copyright, 1881, by Henry Holt & Co. 
II 



AN EVENING WITH PICKWICK. 



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nae room for twa," said he, "There's nae room for twa, 




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Jamie's words went to my heart, "There's nae room for twa." 






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FOR THE SAKE O' SOMEBODY. 



My heart is sair, I daur - na tell, My heart is sair for some-bod - y ; 




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I could wake a winter night, For the sake o' somebody. Oh hon,for somebody ! 






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Copyright, 1881, bv Henry Holt & Co. 
Ill 



AN EVENING WITH PICKWICK. 

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Oh hey for somebody! I could range the world around For the sake o' somebody 

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COME, HASTE TO THE WEDDING. 



Come,hnste to the wedding.ye friends and ye neighbors, The lovers I heir bliss can no 



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lon-ger de - lay, For-get all your sorrows, your cares, and your la-bors. And 



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Copyright, 1881, by Henry Holt A Co. 

IV 



AN EVENING WITH PICKWICK. 



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let ev - ery heart beat with rapt-ure to-day. Ye vo-ta-ries all, at - 



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tend to our call, Come, rev-el in pleasures that nev-er can cloy. Come,see 



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ru - ral fe - lie - i - ty, Which love and in - no-cence ev - er en - joy. 






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u 



Evenings with Dickens." 



An Evening with Copperfield. Price, 25 cents. 

A Literary and Dramatic Dickens Entertainment. — Introduces Mrs. 
Copperfield, Davie, the Peggotys, the Murdstones, Mrs. Gummidge, 
Little Em'ly, Barkis, Betsey Trotwood, Mr. Dick and his kite, Steerforth, 
the Creakles, Traddles, Rosa Dartle, Miss Mowcher, Uriah Heep and 
his Mother, the Micawbers, Dora and Gyp, and the wooden-legged 
Gatekeeper. 

An Evening with Pickwick. Price, 25 cents. 

A Literary and Dramatic Dickens Entertainment. — Introduces the Pick- 
wick Club, the Wardles of Dingley Dell, the Fat Boy, Alfred Jingle, 
Mrs. Leo Hunter, Lord Mutanhed and Count Smorltork, Arabella Allen 
and Bob Allen, Bob Sawyer, Mrs. and Master Bardell, Mrs. Cluppins, 
Mrs. Weller, stiggins, Tony Weller, Sam Weller, and the Lady 
Traveller. 

These new entertainments consist of Impersonations where each character, 
on being introduced to the audience, has something characteristic to offer ; 
and Pantomimes and Readings, in which some person selected for the purpose 
reads aloud certain passages from Dickens while the story is silently acted out 
by the performers on the platform. Interspersed are various tableaux, songs, 
etc., which can be added to or omitted, as may be desired. Nothing will prove 
more acceptable than these " Evenings " to those who are in search of "some- 
thing new" and easily prepared for public or private exhibitions in churches, 
schools, literary and social clubs, summer resorts, or the home circle. 

They are a real novelty in entertainments — there's nothing else like them. 

They are highly dramatic, but not at all theatrical. 

They can each be represented in whole or in part (single scenes may be 
used, as each scene is complete in itself), or selections can be made from both 
for a single entertainment. 

They require but little memorizing on the part of the performers, and do 
not demand experienced actors or musicians — a good reader of Dickens being 
the only essential thing. 

They are easily arranged, without trouble, expense, or elaborate prepara- 
tion; a stage (or platform) with the most limited accessories will answer, no 
scenery being required, while the "properties" can be found almost any- 
where. They were originally produced by the author in a small district 
school-house. 

They afford wide scope for really effective acting, and offer the opportunity 
for introducing impromptu " gags " and taking off local characters. 

They will prove highly diverting to audiences of all classes, whether 
familiar with Dickens or not. 

They will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address, on receipt of the 
annexed prices. 

Send orders to 



Illustrated Y ableaux 

FOR AMATEURS. 

NEW series of Tableaux Vivants, by Martha C. Weld. In this 
series each description is accompanied with a full page illustra- 
tion of the scene to be represented. The introduction of Part I. 
is the most complete and practical treatment of the subject ever writ- 
ten. The books are the best of the kind published, and should be in the 
hands of everybody about to arrange an entertainment of this kind. 

NOW READY, 

PART I.— MISCELLANEOUS TABLEAUX.— Contains Gen- 
eral Introduction, 12 Tableaux and 14 Illustrations. Price, 25 Cents. 

PART II.- MISCELLANEOUS TABLEAUX.— Contains In- 
troduction, 12 Tableaux and 12 Illustrations. Price, 25 Cents. 

A Few Opinions. 

"Excellent Manuals." — Book Chat. 

"Two Pretty Little Volumes." — Cincinnati Inquirer. 

"Admirably suited for the purpose intended." — Albany Argus. 

" Mrs. Weld is a well known adept in this kind of entertainment." — New York 
Evangelist. 

" These small volumes form a complete assistant to any one desirous of giving 
tableaux." — St. Louis Republican. 

"They will be helpful to young people preparing this pleasant method of 
entertainment." — Christian Register. 

"Will be of much practical use and value to schools and persons interested in 
social amusements for church or home."— N. Y. School Journal. 

"They will be of service for private entertainments. The directions as to 
dress and posing are full, and the illustrations will be very helpful." — Hartford 
Courant. 

"They contain all the directions which can possiblv be necessary to enable a 
company of amateurs to successfully present a number of tableaux of a varied 
character." — Troy Times. 

" When we finished the second we wished we had a couple more. They are as 
indispensable to the amateur as a salary and a return ticket are to the profes- 
sional." — Puck. 

" As there is just now a revival of the olden time amusement of tableaux, these 
two little volumes come in just at the right time. Nothing pertaining to tableaux 
has been forgotten or left out. To persons interested in this kind of amusement, 
the little books will prove invaluable." — Ne-.v Orleans Picayune. 

'To any one who contemplates indulging in tableaux, these little books of Mrs. 
Weld's will be invaluable. So clearly does'slie explain the minutiae, that a man- 
ager under her guidance may feel all the confidence which experience can bring. 
The writer is especially explicit in showing how the effects of scenery and costume 
may be secured with the simplest of material, so that the degree of 'expense uiajr 
be made a matter of choice."— Buffalo £jc/ress. 



SAVED FROM THE WRECK. 

A DRAMA IN THREE ACTS, BY THOMAS K. SERRANO. 
PRICE, 15 CENTS. 



Eight male, three female characters: Leading Comedy, Juvenile Man, Genteel 
Villain, Rough Villain, Light Comedian, Escaped Convict, Detective, Utility, Juvenile 
Lady, Leading Comedy Lady and Old Woman. Two Interior and one Landscape 
scene. Modern Costumes. Time of playing, two hours and a half. The scene of the 
action is laid on the New Jersey coast. The p'ot is of absorbing interest, the "busi- 
ness" effective, and the ingenious contrasts of comic and serious situations present a 
continuous series of surprises for the spectators whose interest is increasingly main- 
tained up to the final tableau. 

SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS. 

Act I. The Home of the Light-house Keeper. — An autumn afternoon. — 
The insult. — True to herself. — A fearless h^art. — The unwelcome guest. — Only a 
foundling. — An abuse of confidence — The new partner. — The compact. — The dead 
brought to life. — Saved from the wreck. — Legal advice. — Married for money. — A 
golden chance. — The iaterccpted letter. — A vision of wealth. — The forgery. — Within 
an inch of his life. — The rescue. — Tableau. 

Act II. Scene as befo.je ; time, night. —Dark clouds gathering.— Changing the 
jackets. — Father and son. — On duty. — A rtrugg'c for fortune. — Loved for himself. — 
The divided greenbacks. — The agreement. — An unhappy life. — The detective's mis- 
take. — Arrested.— Mistaken identity. — The likeness again.— On the right track. — The 
accident. — "Will she be saved?" — Latour's bravery.— A noble sacrifice. — The secret 
meeting. — Another case of mistaken identity. — The murder. — " Who did it ? "—The 
torn cuff.—" There stands the murderer ! " — " 'Tis false !" — The wrong man murdered. 
— Who was the victim !— Tableau. 

Act III. Two Days Later. — Plot and counterplot. — Gentleman and convict. — 
The price of her l.fe. — Some new documents. — The divided banknotes. — Sunshine 
through the clouds. — Prepared for a watery grave. — Deadly peril. — Father and daugh- 
ter. — The rising tide. — A life for a signature. — True unto death. — Saved. — The mys- 
tery solved. — Denouement. — Tadi.eau. 



THE GYPSIES' FESTIVAL. 



PRICE, 25 CENTS. 



A Musical Entertainment for Young Peofle. Introduces the Gypsy Queen, 
Fortune Teller, Yankee Peddler and a Chorus of Gypsies, of any desired number. The 
scene is supposed to be a Gypsy Camp. The costumes arc very pretty, but simple ; 
the dialogue bright ; the music easy and tuneful ; and the drill movements and calis- 
thenics are graceful. Few properties and no set scenery required, so that the enter- 
tainment can be represented on any platform. 



THE JAPANESE WEDDING. 



PRICE, 25 CENTS. 



A costume pantomime representation of the Wedding Ceremony 
in Japanese high life. The company consists of the bride and 
groom, their parents, six bridesmaids, and the officiating personage 
appropriately called the "Go-between." There are various formali- 
ties, including salaams, tea-drinking, eating rice-cakes and giving 
presents. No words are spoken. The ceremony (which occupies 
about 50 minutes), with the " tea-room," fills out an evening well, 
though music and other attractions may be added. 
The New Bedford (Mass.) Evening Standard says : 
"All Right.— Mr. O'Hara, a native of Japan, at present residing in 
this city, was present last evening at the Allen Street Church and witnessed a 
rehearsal of the Japanese wedding ceremony, and pronounces all the 
ments correct and according to the usages of that country." 

The following statements show, to some extent, how it has been 
appreciated : 

Worcester, Mass. " The wedding was a great success." 

Lowell, Mass. " Everybody was highly delighted." 

Upton, Mass. " Makes a very satisfactory entertainment." 

Hinsdale, N. H. " It was pronounced beautiful." 

Thompson ville, Conn. "Very successful indeed. More than pleased 
with the wedding." 

Fall River, Mass. "We took $52.30 at the door at 10 cents admission. 
Everybody was pleased with the wedding." 

Franklin, Mass. " The Jap. wedding gave unanimous satisfaction. Avery 
pleasing, novel, instructive entertainment. " 

Farmington, N. H. "A good evening, a good audience, and a good 
time." 

Lawrence, Mass; "All seemed much pleased to find how the ceremony 
was performed in other countries." 

Dover, N. H. " A great success. Net profits, $75.00." 

Fergus Falls, Minnesota, and Pelican Rapids, Minnesota. "The enter- 
tainment in both places was a perfect success, and was much liked." 

Damariscotta, Me. " We enjoyed the wedding very much." 

Newton, Mass. " Such a novel and elegant entertainment was never given 
here before. " 

West Medford, Mass. " The affair was a triumphant success in every par- 
ticular, and we feel highly gratified." 

Lynn, Mass. " A success, everybody expressing much delight with the 
wedding, which passed off in good shape." 



Sent by mail, postpaid, to any address, on receipt of the price. 
HAROLD ROORBACH, Publisher, 

9 Murray Street, New York, N. Y. 



">: LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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